


Over the River and Through the Woods

by coveredincrumb (thegiftoftime)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Being Lost, City Boy Aziraphale, Diary/Journal, Forests, Getting in touch with nature, Hermit Crowley, Hiking, M/M, Mountains, New Adventure, New perspectives, bet, conferences
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24805624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegiftoftime/pseuds/coveredincrumb
Summary: How had Aziraphale ended up here? -On his back, staring at the roof of what looked to be an overgrown cabin. What he thought was a red-haired gremlin, with dangly canines, a sharp protruding nose, and a just-as-sharp jawline was staring down at him curiously. He had an exceptional headache and black spots dancing around his vision. That wasn’t normal, now was it?It was all of a bit of blur. What did he remember?Think, Aziraphale. Think!With the help of the pounding in his head, the memories slowly began to come back to him.Yes! That’s right. It all began with Gabriel’s idea of a good time. A hike.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Gabriel (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 40
Collections: Good AUmens AU Fest





	1. An inconvenience is Only an Adventure Wrongly Considered

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my submission for the Good AUmens event. My topic was "Forests" and I wanted to do a hiker/hermit spin. I couldn't get the image of Crowley locking himself away in nature he loved out of my head. And I couldn't get the image of City-Boy Aziraphale being thrown into his world out of my head either. Please enjoy
> 
> BIG SHOUTOUT TO [Vagabond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagabond/pseuds/Vagabond) for beta-reading and being just an amazing friend. Check out her amazing Good AUmens work "Don't Cry Over Spilled Coffee". It is a cute beach theme and I'm IN LOVE.

**Over the river and through the woods…  
**  
How had Aziraphale ended up here? -On his back, staring at the roof of what looked to be an overgrown cabin. What he thought was a red-haired gremlin, with dangly canines, a sharp protruding nose, and a just-as-sharp jawline was staring down at him curiously. He had an exceptional headache and black spots dancing around his vision. That wasn’t normal, now was it?  
  
It was all of a bit of blur. What did he remember?

_Think, Aziraphale. Think!_

With the help of the pounding in his head, the memories slowly began to come back to him.

_Yes! That’s right. It all began with Gabriel’s idea of a good time. A hike.  
  
  
_

* * *

  
Aziraphale had known Gabriel Winger for a very long time. They had both gone to the same university. Aziraphale had majored in Literature and Writing Arts while Gabriel had majored in business administration. They had a similar circle throughout university but Aziraphale wouldn’t have exactly called their relationship a friendship. However, after getting their bachelor’s degrees and working a few years as working professionals in their fields, they had both ended up in a publishing company called _Drop of Ink_.  
  
It wasn’t a _welcome_ surprise, per se, but it certainly was a surprise on both of their parts. Both Aziraphale and Gabriel had been hired on and worked their way up the ranks to be able to represent their respective departments; Aziraphale’s being editing and publishing while Gabriel’s was marketing.  
  
After achieving success in their departments, they had been given the ‘honor’ of flying out to the western part of the United States, to a state Aziraphale remembered to be called Oregon, to a spot nestled in the mountainous region called the Cascades. There they would attend a large publishing conference.  
  
Their objective was clear. They were to join a conference, advertise and show off for their company. Networking with some older accounts and impressing the pants off of potential new clients and authors looking for a publisher was a large part of this conference. It was simple, and not at all what Aziraphale would consider fun.  
  
But, alas, Gabriel and Aziraphale packed up their bags – Aziraphale’s being a tartan suitcase and Gabriel’s a hiking backpack with a million compartments and straps for whatever reason. Aziraphale didn’t understand at that moment but he _would soon_. Then they were off into the new world with Aziraphale’s trusty journal at his beck and call to write down everything he could.  
  
_Tomorrow I go off into the wild west of the United States. Portland, I expect, but Gabriel seemed hesitant to tell me exactly where. He likes surprises and tormenting me much too much.  
  
I will not know my fate until I get there, but I expect it to be unlike what I’ve experienced before._  
Oh, boy was he right.  
_____  
  
Aziraphale had been to conferences before. He had been to lovely conference centers with hor d’oeuvres and champagne and delectable desserts that stayed on his tongue throughout the night and sweetened his dreams. He didn’t particularly enjoy all the networking and the stuffiness of the event when it came to advertising what the company had to offer, but he could survive it if the conference center and food were good enough.  
  
He was a bit of a city slicker. He was a picky eater. He was many synonyms related to sophisticated.  
  
When he heard that the conference center wasn’t in Portland but was, in fact, in the Cascade mountains at an ‘alternative’ health center’ called _Happy Trails_ where there wasn’t any real internet, they did yoga in the mornings, there were nude hot springs and an introduction to vegan living. He wasn’t very pleased. In fact, he practically begged to have another person go in his place. This was a field day for Gabriel.  
  
“Oh, come on, Aziraphale. You’re always talking about all the lovely places your books take you. Why don’t you actually travel and get out in nature for once? This will be good for you. It will give you a _new perspective_.”  
  
Oh, how he wanted to clobber Gabriel at that moment. New perspective, his arse. Gabriel was always trying to push his buttons and see what would set off his usually very polite and mindful colleague. They didn’t always see eye-to-eye on things, but they did a good job. It was the last feather in his hat when Aziraphale ‘foolishly’ complained by asking,  
  
“What can we even do in the mountains other than stare at a pine tree and hope we don’t get mauled by a bear!? I’ve even been chased after by one of those devilish geese! All I wanted to do was get a closer look at its gosling.”  
  
That was the final nail in his coffin, it would seem.  
  
“I am _very happy you asked,_ Aziraphale. I think I know what will do the trick. You have been holed up in your room the whole conference-”  
  
“ _Communal area_ , Gabriel. I am in a bunk room with 5 other chaps! And can you believe it? I get more privacy there than in the communal showers! And if you don’t think I’m being social enough, I think I’ve met every mosquito, spider, and centipede in the whole bless-ed continental United States!”  
  
They were sitting in the most “private” room in the lodge and that happened to be the front porch. It gave a beautiful view of the mountains in the distance, but all Aziraphale could think about was being comfortable in his flat in Soho and having a cup of tea. You’d think that in a lodge such as this one, they’d at least have tea, but instead, they only had de-caffeinated tea which tasted as if it was the tea a child would make out of their backyard’s lawn clippings. What was the point?  
  
As Aziraphale swatted mosquitos in his seat, Gabriel looked out upon the view and smiled. He blindly reached over and patted Aziraphale’s shoulder with a sigh.  
  
“I think I know what would bring you out of your city-lump. You’ve been stuck in that yuppy smog-town mindset much too long. You’ll be thanking me by the end of this trip, you know?”  
  
Aziraphale stopped swatting to look over at Gabriel with a measured roll of his eyes.  
  
“No, I don’t know, Gabriel. Why don’t you enlighten me? Hmm?”  
  
Gabriel smiled and Aziraphale’s metaphorical coffin was covered in dirt.  
  
_____  
  
  
“Hiking?”  
  
“ _Hiking,_ Aziraphale. It is exactly what you need. There are dozens of trails right around the conference’s lodge that could really open your eyes to the world around us! The United States has many things that you’ll never find in Soho. Besides, I know you don’t enjoy advertising anyway.”  
  
Aziraphale shook his head and applied yet another layer of fragrant-smelling sunscreen.  
  
“No, I don’t, but I have certainly never gone hiking before unless you mean a nice wander around London.”  
  
Gabriel nodded and pulled out a map that was conveniently tucked in his grape-purple North Face windbreaker’s pocket.  
  
“Exactly. I have it all right here.”  
  
He pointed a large finger into the map where Aziraphale assumed the lodge was. He honestly didn’t know. Gabriel had taken the reins when it had come to him getting up into the Cascades after landing in Portland. Aziraphale glanced at it uninterested and sighed. Gabriel sent him a smile and pointed into the map again.  
  
“You said it yourself, you don’t enjoy advertising here at the conference. I’ll make a deal with you. If you go hiking with me tomorrow on a trail, I’ll let you get out of the morning portion of the conference. I’ll report you as sick and you can sleep in and read books or whatever else you would like to do. Mum’s the word.”  
  
Gabriel did a faux zipper pull across his lips.  
  
Aziraphale thought about it. It was a very tempting offer. Sleeping in and catching up on the latest Stephen King book was incredibly tempting. But it would mean he would have to hike with Gabriel.  
  
“I don’t have the gear. You brought all the proper things and I haven’t anything.”  
  
Gabriel nodded,  
  
“I thought this might happen”  
  
Oh, so Gabriel _knew_ exactly what he was doing. Planning and devising a plan.  
  
“Our shoe sizes are similar enough and you brought clothing to be suitable for a nice walk, right? We’ll figure it out. I have all sorts of items you can borrow; an extra water bottle, and granola bars for when we are feeling snacky. Come on, Aziraphale.”  
  
He turned in his wooden deck chair and sighed.  
  
“Go on _one_ hike with me. It won’t be intense. Just enough for us to explore the area around us. We should enjoy this opportunity to venture out into nature and love the Earth.”  
  
Aziraphale glared and let out a sigh with another smack of a bug.  
  
“If it means I get to sleep in and you let me borrow your bug spray, I think I just might take you up on that offer.”  
  
Gabriel let out a large Cheshire grin.  
  
“Deal.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
What a deal with the devil it was.  
  
What could he say? He agreed to Gabriel’s ultimatum. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was someone they had put in the beet and wild mushroom soup at dinner the day before. It could have been anything that pushed Aziraphale to agree to go out with Gabriel into the middle of the woods to, as Gabriel put it,  
  
“Get in touch with your wild side!”  
  
He didn’t have one of those. He lived in London in a nice flat with books and a bakery down the street where he didn’t have to hunt for his next croissant.  
  
  
It was just one hike. Gabriel had a map and at least some snacks even if they were granola with a few raisins sprinkled throughout. Besides, as a young lad he had gone on plenty of walks throughout the parks and loved feeding the ducks in his free time. This would just be a bit different. This time, he wouldn’t be feeding ducks, he would be hoping he wouldn’t be feeding a bear or one of those dreadful mountain lions. What he had to look out for were those evil geese he had experience all about. Those were the worst, apparently. When he finally made it back to his _bunk_ , he pulled out his journal.  
  
_“I am making a deal with the Devil. That may be very flowery language for Gabriel, but I would say he is getting more benefit out of this hike than I am. I am to go into the wilderness to see the same trees over and over. The great adventurers of our time have already made this trek, so I don’t have to. At the same time, I am a man of his word. I will go with the grace of God under my wings and put myself in the place of the great pioneers of this world. I will go with God and appreciate every part of his work- at least until I can go back to London and enjoy the better parts of civilization.”_  
___

  
“Ready to go, Aziraphale? We’re burning daylight and I hear that if you hit peak elevation at just the right time, you can see the Pacific!”  
  
Aziraphale was shaken from his daze and sighed pulling on the much too gaudy hiking boots that Gabriel had conveniently brought along with him after putting his journal away. It was 7 o’clock in the morning, and although Aziraphale wouldn’t consider himself someone who loved sleep, the time difference and jet lag certainly had him tired.  
  
“Yes, yes, Gabriel. I am coming. I just wanted to grab my journal. If anything, I could write about what I see as a keepsake.”  
  
Gabriel opened the front door of the lodge for him and slipped a water bottle into the small pocket at the side of his large hiking backpack.  
  
“That’s the spirit. Now, I have a map for you so you can follow along with me.”  
  
Gabriel pulled out a familiar map that Aziraphale had seen at the front desk when he had first checked in. Well, when _Gabriel checked in;_ he had been too shocked at what their company had called ‘comfortable lodging’.  
  
He took it and saw where Gabriel had marked the trail with a red marker.  
  
“Devil’s Crossroad’, that seems a bit ominous. I am an amateur hiker, Gabriel.”  
  
Gabriel gave a quiet chuckle and gave him a hard pat on the shoulder,  
  
“You’ll be just fine. You’re hiking with me and it is only around 20 kilometers. Easy.”  
  
Aziraphale blinked a few times and couldn’t believe his ears. He looked at the map again and then back up at Gabriel who was already starting down the lodge’s stairs.  
  
“20 kilometers? Are you actually out of mind? I thought this might be a nice little stroll where we would see the same pine trees we have been seeing the last 3 days!”  
  
Gabriel paused and turned on his heel to look at Aziraphale. He pinched his nose and sighed,  
  
“Aziraphale. I know this isn’t your ideal situation, but I’m trying to do you a favor. You’re too stuffy and don’t know what the world is like outside of London and your apartment.”  
  
Before Aziraphale could interrupt Gabriel turned and started walking,  
  
“You made a deal with me and if you are the man I think you are, you’ll keep it. I have a feeling you will thank me when this is over. Now, let’s get on. There’s supposed to be some bad weather coming in this afternoon.”  
  
Aziraphale stared at Gabriel as the figure got smaller and smaller as he walked away, his thumbs hooked on his backpack straps. Gabriel was right. Not about how he didn’t know what the world was like because he _did._ He knew all about the Earth and the planets beyond through his reading. But he was right about the deal he had made. He intended to keep it. If anything, he might gain some respect from Gabriel the next time they had an event like this. It was only for the day, then in another few days, he’d be back in his flat, a cup of cocoa in his hand, and some Oscar Wilde poetry in the other. In the meantime, he entertained himself with other inspiring quotes.  
  
“An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.”  
― **G.K. Chesterton**

* * *

  
It felt like half a day was there and gone before Aziraphale finally had had enough and needed to stop for a prolonged water break and a good rest. Gabriel didn’t grumble too much about it as it was essential to stay hydrated. While Gabriel’s leg was perched up on a boulder looking like some sort of movie star while water dripped down his arm as he drank, Aziraphale was hunched over panting quietly.  
  
He had to admit that along the way they had seen some quite marvelous views coming and going across ridges and through different paths, but he still looked forward to experiencing adventure in a comfortable bed, a book in his hands. He would have appreciated it even more if he weren’t so focused on keeping up with Gabriel as he happily whistled along the pathway.  
  
“How much further, Gabriel?”  
  
Aziraphale fumbled with the map he had stuffed in his back pocket and turned it around a few times trying to figure out the direction they were headed.  
  
Gabriel popped the top back onto his water bottle and slid it back into his backpack’s mesh pocket.  
  
“Well, we are probably another half hour from the top of the trail and then we’ll come back from there. Chin up, Aziraphale. You’re making fairly good time for never having gone hiking like this before.”  
  
Aziraphale stood up and set his hands on his hips, stretching his back a bit.  
  
“I’ve never gone hiking at all, Gabriel.”  
  
An hour? He could probably handle the hour, but it was the way back that might kill him. The whole rest of the hike up, he had let Gabriel know just how annoyed and tired he was. Beautiful scenery be damned. He wanted to complain even if he tried to take mental pictures of the dusty white mountains he saw in the distance. Just over them, he could see some darker clouds rolling in. Gabriel had mentioned that it might storm later in the afternoon. It was 12:15 now. Or was it? Aziraphale hadn’t reset his pocket watch when they first arrived in Oregon. Did it matter? He’d be back in London soon, anyway. Back to his familiar city, smog and all.  
  
When they finally reached the top of the trail, the sight was heavenly. He could see all the way to the coast just like Gabriel had mentioned. Even if he had been grouching along the way about this deal he had agreed to, he just had to pull out his leather-bound journal and jot down a few sketches of the pines dotting his vision and the mountains lining the horizon. Perhaps Gabriel had been just a bit right about him going hiking. The view was certainly something take in. Instead of just the pine trees he had been seeing, he began to pick out the differences of heights and colors dotting the landscape. Some of those very same intimidating geese were flying above the tree line in a V-formation. The mountains he saw melded into the horizon and seemed soft from his distance away. He likened it to what he had seen in some National Geographic magazines he had read about the United States’ national parks.  


Gabriel put a hearty hand on his shoulder and shook him a little bit, his pencil sliding across the page as a result. Aziraphale gave Gabriel a strong side-eye, but Gabriel was staring into the distance like he had just made the summit on Mount Everest and had planted his flag of self-righteousness.  
  
“This is what I am talking about. I know it isn’t completely your fault that you’re so yuppy, but if you stick with me, you’re bound to live a little.”  
  
As if. And ‘yuppy’? How dare he? He wasn’t yuppy, per se; he was refined. He couldn’t help if the American didn’t know the difference.  
  
And just like that Gabriel was tightening his backpack straps again and walking back down the trail.  
  
“Where are you going, Gabriel? We just got here! Aren’t we going to have a picnic or give a long-winded speech on adventure and our distant horizons?”  
  
Gabriel rolled his eyes and turned to look at Aziraphale who had slipped off a shoe and was rubbing his sore foot.  
  
“I’ll leave that to Shakespeare, Aziraphale. Those clouds don’t bode well with me and we’ve got the hike back to the lodge before the rain sets in.”  
  
Aziraphale stared at him with disbelief.  
  
“You drug me all the way up a mountain to a gorgeous view after hanging the chance of actually sleeping over my head just to turn around and head back into the thickets of mosquitoes and the same 10 pine trees over and over again? Absolutely not. I’m going to sit up here and get what I paid for in sweat and blood.”  
  
He crossed his arms after swatting a mosquito and huffed. Gabriel rolled his eyes and shrugged.  
  
“If you want to get caught in the rain and catch your death, that’s up to you. I don’t want to hear you complaining when you drag yourself back into the lodge looking like a wet rag.”  
  
Aziraphale stood up, a shoe in his hand,  
  
“That isn’t a _lodge_. That is no better than a hermit’s paradise! Go. I have my map. I know how to read- Better than most!”  
  
Gabriel threw his hands up in the air and grabbed a walking stick he had snagged along the way.  
  
“Do what you want, Aziraphale. You’re your own man.”  
  
And then there was silence.  
  
_Incredible sans-Gabriel silence._  
  
He was at peace.  
  
  


* * *

It was another 20 minutes of Aziraphale’s ignorant bliss and him journaling until he heard the first sound of thunder.  
  
  
_It was quite a long walk up this forsaken mountain. I felt as if I were in Dante’s footsteps going into the many layers of Hell. Only Gabriel was with me with his positive attitude which is probably much worse.  
  
However, the view from the summit of the hike certainly has given me pause. Nature can be quite beautiful from a distance. I am not sure whether or not it was worth the mosquito-infested hike and Gabriel’s attempt at banter.  
  
I am to make the trek home on my own. Perhaps it will be more enjoyable knowing I have achieved the apex of the hike and will get the rest I was promised. Sweet sleep will take me, and I will dream of the mountain tops I see in front of me. I am Lewis and Clark.  
  
_As if.  
  
  


* * *

He started his way down when he saw the lightning approaching in the distance He slipped his shoes on and stowed his journal securely in the small bag that he had brought. Most of the way back was downhill, so he suspected he could make it back in half the time. That’s what he thought, but it would be much longer than that.  
  
He hadn’t expected the storm to move in so quickly, as he made his way down the branchy and rocky path. He had to stop a few times to refer to the map when he saw a few other color markers on the way down. There were blue and white and red. How patriotic.  
  
___  
  
The real panic began to set in when he had seen the same rock at least 3 times. This wasn’t him being dramatic and saying they had been walking past the same 10 pine trees, this was the exact same rock with the same bird droppings _3 times_. Only on the third time it was beginning to be washed away by the impending thunderstorm that was sprinkling around him on the path.  
  
He had to keep going. By the looks of the map that was getting damper and damper, he was only about another 30 minutes away from the lodge. He was tired but his adrenaline was keeping him forward along the path. If he thought he’d have time to appreciate nature on the way down when he had been begrudging it on the way up, he was wrong.  
  
He didn’t have time to jot down his worried in his journal either when a strong wisp on wind ripped the map out of his hands and into the bush.  
  
“Oh, you’ve _got_ to be joking.”  
  
He knew he might get lost if he were to continue without the map, so the only logical thing to do was to go after it and get onto his way to a bunk he’d be very thankful to have after such a journey.  
  
He decided to take a step off of the rocky path when a stark flash of lightning lit up the sky and a roar of thunder shook the underbrush. He had to make a decision. Go forward or find the map.  
  
He took that step and followed it for God knows how long until he saw it caught up on a branch high above him. It was just out of reach and he felt his shoes sink into the dampening soil as the rain began to saturate it.  
  
This was when real fear began to sit in, and he began praying to God.  
  
“I should have gone with Gabriel. He’s probably laughing at how stupid I am to have stayed longer. I just want to get back to that stupid cot and sleep. I would even drink that preposterous decaffeinated tea and participate in that ridiculous yoga class in the morning!”  
  
With that, he was able to jump high enough to grip the corner of the map and pull it down.  
  
“Ah, hah! You thought you bested me, mother nature! You’ll think twice before-”  
  
And then there was a flash of lightning, the deafening snap of a branch, and blackening pain to his head.  
  
And there was darkness.  
  


* * *


	2. It Isn't About the Destination...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After falling victim to a disastrous hike and storm, Aziraphale wakes up to find himself... being watched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! Welcome to chapter two *finally*. Please enjoy this introduction to our favorite hermit.

How had Aziraphale ended up here? -On his back, staring at the roof of what looked to be an overgrown cabin. What he thought was a red-haired gremlin, with dangly canines, a sharp protruding nose, and a just-as-sharp jawline was staring down at him curiously. He had an exceptional headache and black spots dancing around his vision. That wasn’t normal now, was it?  
  
When everything began to slowly come back to him – the hike, Gabriel, the storm, the darkness – he realized his must have been hit in the head and passed out. But the question still remained: how had he ended up there?   
  
There was a hand at his shoulder pushing him down when he tried to sit up.  
  
“Best you stay down. From the looks of it, you probably have a concussion.”  
  
Who was speaking? Was it that dimmed figure in front of him? It was a grumbly voice as if the person hadn’t spoken in a long time. It sounded like a man, but who was to say? His storybooks had showcased a multitude of options. It sounded as if it could be a man, but who was to say? Like many of the stories he had indulged himself in, it was likely he had fallen through a burrow in the ground made by the trickster fairies and ended up in some mystical wild.  
  
That was when the adrenaline hit. He smacked the hand on his shoulder off and sat up against better judgment. He immediately stood up and saw the enclosure spinning around him.  
  
“Where am I? I demand to be released this very moment. I have to get back to… to Gabriel”  
  
Of all the people to want to see again.   
  
His vision continued to swim, and he felt that granola bar Gabriel had given him start to disagree with him. The only thing he could tell clearly enough was that he was inside some sort of shack-like building, moss trickling down from the ceiling and the sound of rain pitter-pattering on the roof. He clenched his eyes shut and fell back down onto his rear trying to manage the swirling vision and to keep his lunch down. He felt that same hand on his shoulder lightly rubbing it.  
  
“I told you to stay down. Of course, you don’t listen.”  
  
Aziraphale felt his chest clench with worry. He didn’t know where he was. From the blurry looks of it, it was a cabin of some sort. There was green moss growing between each log and a heat burning his side. That must have been a fireplace of some sort.   
  
He recognized what was happening to him as ‘ _hyperventilating’_. His body was going into shock. A hand was immediately at his back rubbing it.  
  
“Just breathe, Angel. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Just in and out. There you are.”  
  
Angel? He had made it to the afterlife, after all. He didn’t know who the voice belonged to, but he tried to follow their instructions for the first time since he had woken up.   
  
He tried his best to breathe in and out, feeling the throbbing of his head. Once he felt back into some sort of resemblance of sorts, he asked the million-dollar question:   
  
“Who are you?”  
  
He felt the hand immediately leave his back and he slowly lifted his head as to not begin rocking his boat again.  
  
When he opened his eyes, he didn’t see a person in front of him. He saw a figure hunched against the cabin wall on his heels, the darkness and shadow of the fire painting him dim. Aziraphale tried to think logically about this. If the person had intended to hurt him, he would have by now. Instead, the figure seemed to have shrunk away from him. He was about to ask it again with more vigor when the gravelly voice rang out once again, sending shivers down Aziraphale’s spine.  
  
“I think the better question is, _who are you?”  
  
  
_

* * *

It was a fair question to ask.  
  
“Why should I answer? You’re the one who kidnapped me and brought me here- Oh, blimey”  
  
A throb of pain raced through his skull and his hand went up to try to nurse it. It didn’t do much. He did find, however, some sort of vegetative medley of damp herbs stuck to the back of his head. Lord knew what that could have been. Something his alternative living lodge might have prescribed, perhaps.  
  
“Don’t touch it. Just leave it. The herbs are helping to fight any infection.”  
  
The person seemed knowledgeable and he would take anything to help with the throbbing.  
  
“Fair enough. But that still begs the question. What happened? How did I get here? I was hiking home when the storm hit.”  
  
There was a pause in the room and then the gravelly voice raked over the floor once again,  
  
“I found you along the hiking path. A branch must have come down at hit you. I couldn’t just leave you there…”  
  
Though he had been tempted.  
  
“I brought you back to my abode here to treat your wounds while the storm continues to wreak havoc.”  
  
Aziraphale couldn’t believe this. Of all the times he had decided to go out ‘hiking’ to ‘enjoy nature’ he had ended up knocked out and kidnapped.  
  
“I didn’t bring you here because I wanted to.”  
  
Aziraphale squinted at the figure, his eyes straining in the dimmed light of the fire.  
  
“How kind of you. Come out of the shadow. Reveal yourself.”  
  
There was hesitation.  
  
“I mean it. I won’t repeat myself!”  
  
There was another jostle of hesitation before there was a loud sigh. Aziraphale prepared himself for a creature. A wild beast like he had read from his countless novels with a poor lost soul getting captured. But it seemed to be just….

A man.

  
  
A man whose eyes were cast down to the dusty floor, a well-worn red flannel shirt hanging off of him like it was 2 sizes too big. His jeans were ripped and his hair long, it all a wild mess. This was only in the dimmed light of a fire, but he wasn’t sure if there was more to behold. The figure was crouched down and hugging his knees, the hair falling over his slender legs.  
  
Aziraphale didn’t quite know what to say. It wasn’t a creature. It was a person and he felt a miniscule pang of guilt for acting so hostile towards him. He wasn’t out in the rain, but he heard it hit the roof of the small structure. He could have been out there, but he was next to a fire.  
  
“Er- Perhaps I was a bit quick to pull the trigger. My name is Aziraphale and I am here from the jolly old land of London, England. It was a mistake I ventured out, it seems”  
  
That was when he heard it. It was terrifying. It was a burst of what seemed to be _laughter._ The man with the flannel had thrown his head back with laughter, the hair revealing just a sliver of the angular face he had first witnessed when waking up.  
  
“What is so funny, dear boy? It seems my journey was plagued from the beginning. I come out here, get bribed into hiking up a monstrous mountain just to be attacked by a tree branch, and dragged out here. Oh, good Lord, what time is it?”  
  
The laughter tapered off and the small voice came out again,  
  
“I don’t know. The sun went down only an hour ago.”  
  
Aziraphale’s eyes widened,  
  
“An _hour ago?_ You have got to be joking. That is half the day? Gabriel must be- “  
  
What would he be? Worried sick? Surely not.  
  
“In any case, I must get back to the lodge. I cannot sit around here and wallow in the dirt, no offense.”  
  
The mop of, what he could see now, red hair tilted to the side,  
  
“None taken. But I don’t see you leaving anytime soon. The storm is setting in now and I have a feeling it will stick around.”  
  
Aziraphale slowly drew himself to sit up further and groaned.  
  
“Oh, I am never leaving London again. I don’t even know your name.”  
  
The figure huffed and crossed his arms, looking to be slightly defensive again,  
  
“For the person that pulled your sorry arse out of the mud…”  
  
Was that a twinge of a Scottish accent? He waited patiently for the answer.  
  
“The name’s Crowley. Just that. Don’t go thanking me or nothin’. And quit touching the herbs for somebody’s sake!”  
  
Crowley.   
  
Now that was peculiar. Yet everything on this whole expedition seemed to be.  
  


* * *

After slowly sitting up and being able to see the cabin without it spinning, he got a better look at what he was in for.   
  
It was small. It was most likely some hunter’s cabin from years past that had been taken over by the forest. From what he saw of the liquid light flickering from the fireplace, the spaces between the logs had been filled with moss and had arms of overgrowth flowing from them. There was a small table shoved into the corner that was covered in what could be assumed was mason jars. Each was filled with little bits and bobbles. He’d have to take a closer look when the sun finally shined. He was sitting on an old creaky army cot and there was a lantern sat next to him along with a clear mason jar full of water, he’d assume.  
  
In the opposite corner was a bookshelf filled with some sort of literature. It was a welcome sight and made him think of his cozy home back in London. His flat was filled from brim to brim with oak and maple shelves stained to make them glossy. His books were of infinite colors organized in just the right fashion. He sighed and then focused on the drab and empty looking shelves. When would he be home again to run his fingers along their spines and dip into their wonderous pages?  
  
Crowley must have seen him staring at he carefully padded over to the dark corner going out of sight, taking a book of its top-shelf.  
  
“This? This is just my small collection of herbology books. If you live out here, you need to know what could kill you and what won’t. That’s what I used to help with your head wound.”  
  
He let a small awkward chuckle when he was met with silence by Aziraphale. It was just then when Aziraphale was reminded again just how far from home he was. He was in the middle of the forest where everything seemed to want to kill him.  
  
He turned his focus to Crowley and then leaned back. He needed to whether this ‘Crowley’ was the thing that might kill him out there. He didn’t think so, considering he could have left him to die and he had tried to patch him up with some sort of vegetative mix. He lightly touched it again feeling a sharp pang.  
  
The figure in the dark corner reached out into the light with an outstretched hand.  
  
“I told you not to touch it. You don’t want to disrupt it. You might have a concussion.”  
  
Aziraphale immediately paused his hand and squinted,  
  
“Come out of the dark again. I didn’t get a good look at you and I have the right to know what thing I am dealing with.”  
  
There was another long pause,  
  
“I am not some _thing_. I told you. I am Crowley. What else is there to know?”  
  
He was met again with silence and the man let out a loud huff.  
  
“Fine, fine.”  
  
He stepped back into the light but still seemed to curl his body away.  
  
“Chin up and back straight, my boy. Your posture will be ruined if you continue to crouch”  
  
The man seemed to stagger back at that. Was Aziraphale scaring him? What did he have to be scared about? Aziraphale was the one who had woken up in a strange place. Then again, he was being a bit harsh, wasn’t he? He cleared his throat,  
  
“I’m sorry. I am just a bit… unsettled by what’s happened. I just want to know who my knight in shining armor was.”  
  
Crowley was thankful for the darkness to shield the man from his blooming blush,  
  
“Knight? I think you’ve read too many fairytales.”  
  
He tried his best to straighten up his back and Aziraphale let out a quiet gasp. The man must have been nearing 2 meters.  
  
His, _yes,_ red hair was touching his shoulders. He was wearing a red flannel shirt and his jeans looked worn with wear. They were fraying at the bottoms. He was barefoot against the hard wood floor and he didn’t understand how he could be with all the dust and dirt bound to be sprinkled across.   
  
“Come now, I won’t bite. Come closer”  
  
There was again that hesitation that Aziraphale didn’t understand. Was he just some hunter? Why would he hide from him? There was another step and Aziraphale sat up to try to peer into the face he had only briefly seen staring down at him. What he thought he saw before was glowing yellow eyes, but they seemed muted from his hair casting shadows along them. He did see from the flickering fire how his sharp chin and cheekbones shaped his face. He was striking, really.  
  
“How long have you been out here, Crowley?”  
  
By the looks of his figure, the cabin, and his clothes, it was the first question that crossed his mind.  
  
Crowley let out a quiet hum as if he had to think about it.  
  
“The last 12 years, I think.”  
  
  



End file.
